


now i'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams

by agentmmayy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, AoS Smut Week 2019, F/M, Painting, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, bodypainting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 17:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/pseuds/agentmmayy
Summary: When Melinda May's ex-fling hires her to produce art for a fund-raising auction, sparks- and paint splatters- fly between her and one of the models. Lance Hunter is talkative, a little brazen, and has a body Melinda enjoys painting. When he invites her back to the dressing rooms after the event, Melinda hesitates, but then again, she's never been a firm believer of "do not touch the art."





	now i'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams

**Author's Note:**

> this is my 50th fic!!! ahhhh!! what an amazing way to celebrate it than with mayhunter and an art fic (that got way out of hand like always lol)

With a grunt, Melinda heaves her rolling bag up the few stairs. It’s heavy, full of paint bottles, paint tubes, brushes, and anything else she needs to do her job. The plastic wheels clunk dangerously against the concrete steps as Melinda sets it down. She’s about to grab the handle of the backstage door when it swings open.  ** **   
** **

The man standing there towers over her. His shoulders are about as broad as the doorway. He looks at her paint-splattered clothes. “Are you the artist?”  ** **   
** **

It should be obvious, but Melinda still nods. “I am. Is Bobbi here?” ** **   
** **

“She should be around here somewhere.” He opens the door further so she can enter, but glances down at her roller bag. “You need me to get that for you?” ** **   
** **

“I’ve got it.” ** **   
** **

“Are you sure?” At her flat look, the man holds his hands up and backs away, letting her in. “Okay.” ** **   
** **

Melinda steps inside the back entrance of the theater, yanking her bag behind her. It rattles over the metal threshold before gliding against smooth tile as Melinda follows the man through the theater. It’s bustling with enough activity to make her head spin. There are people running around with clipboards yelling and others barking into headsets. Melinda ducks just in time as a huge beam of stage lights is swung over her head.  ** **   
** **

“Hey!” The man in front of her barks, turning to the people carrying the equipment. “Watch it.” ** **   
** **

A faint  _ sorry, Mack _ is the only reply Melinda hears before Mack, she presumes, pushes open the double doors they near. The instant they step in the hallway, it’s quieter but still filled with noise.  ** **   
** **

“The locker rooms are down here,” Mack explains. “Bobbi should be in one of them, probably trying to convince Hunter to stay.” ** **   
** **

Before Melinda can ask who Hunter is or about his situation, the nearest door opens, and a familiar head of blonde hair appears. There’s a crease of frustration on Bobbi’s brow, but when she sees Melinda, her face brightens. Melinda feels herself offering a smile back. It’s been a while since she’s last seen Bobbi, but that doesn’t mean Melinda isn’t any less fond of her.  ** **   
** **

“Mel, hey,” Bobbi greets, rushed and relieved simultaneously. “Perfect! Our last model just got here.”  ** **   
** **

From inside the room behind Bobbi comes a loud, “I  _ still  _ can’t believe you talked me into this.”  ** **   
** **

Bobbi turns, yelling, “You know you owe me!” ** **   
** **

“You’ve just got him wrapped around your finger like the rest of us,” Mack grumbles as he moves past them and into the dressing room.  ** **   
** **

Bobbi rolls her eyes and turns back to Melinda. “Don’t listen to them. They want to do this.” ** **   
** **

Based on the absence of enthusiasm in the dressing room, Melinda isn’t so sure. But then again she doesn’t really care since she’s getting paid for this. The models are already dressed in the tight spandex undergarments Melinda asked Bobbi to order ahead. Bobbi introduces her quickly, pointing to each person who either offers a wave or a small  _ hi  _ in response. “Melinda this is Trip, Daisy, Lincoln, Mack, Jemma, and L-Hunter. Guys, this is Melinda. She’ll be painting you today.” ** **   
** **

Melinda studies the group of six before her, lingering on Hunter before moving on. As her eyes scan the people, Melinda is already forming paintings in her minds but, she turns to Bobbi. “What were you thinking?” ** **   
** **

“No famous artworks,” Bobbi says immediately. “Those are so overdone now. I want originals, anything you can think of that would be bid on.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda nods. She can definitely work with that. “You got it.” ** **   
** **

“Well, you have around-” Bobbi glances at her watch “Eight hours.” She grimaces. “Is that-?” ** **   
** **

“I can do it,” Melinda assures her though it’ll be close. She doesn’t want Bobbi to stress any more than she already is. “Everyone will be done in time.”  ** **   
** **

With a soft smile, Bobbi reaches out and grasps Melinda’s upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know whatever you do will be fantastic.” She then straightens up, lowering her hand. 

“I have to go yell at a few interns now, but I’ll be back to see how everything is going in a few.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda nods and forces herself not to watch Bobbi go. Instead, she keeps her eyes on the models, trying to formulate a plan to paint them all in eight hours. It was wisest to get the largest painting done first. Melinda gestures Mack over. “You’re up.” ** **   
** **

The absence of hair on Mack’s head opened new doors of possibility for the painting. He has an outstanding physique, as Melinda noticed before. With his shirt off, she has a newfound appreciation for his muscles. But Mack isn’t her type and he’s taken if the ring on his left hand is any indication. After Mack and Lincoln, Melinda paints the female models. There are only two, so it doesn’t take that long, but Jemma shivers each time the brush passes over her skin and Daisy squirms. Through giggles, she explains that it tickles. Soon, the painted models are carefully lounging on the other side of the room. Melinda turns to the other two that are still clothed.  ** **   
** **

As soon as her eyes land on Trip, Melinda knows exactly what she wants to paint. She turns, digging into her bag and hands him a disposable razor. “Legs.” ** **   
** **

Trip groans. “Aw come on. Really?” ** **   
** **

“It’s just hair,” Hunter interjects before Melinda can open her mouth. “It’ll grow back, mate.”  ** **   
** **

With a sigh, Trip concedes. “Yeah, you’re right.” He nods to Melinda’s bag. “You got any shaving cream in that joint?” ** **   
** **

Wordlessly, Melinda reaches in and pulls out a can of unscented shaving cream.  ** **   
** **

“Aw hell yeah. I’ll be back even smoother than I am now.” ** **   
** **

Melinda chuckles. “I don’t see how that’s possible.” ** **   
** **

Trip only offers a wink in reply as he makes his way to the bathroom, pausing to talk to the others as he goes.  ** **   
** **

“He’ll be a while,” Hunter says. “Might as well get started on me.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda glances to the clock and frowns. She only has two hours left and no time to wait for Trip. “Come here.”  ** **   
** **

As the other models had, Hunter takes his place sitting on the bench facing Melinda. He closes his eyes as she wipes his face with a makeup removal wipe. When she rubs at his chin, Hunter says, “Please don’t tell me you want me to shave too.” ** **   
** **

“I thought it was only hair and that it’ll grow back.” ** **   
** **

He groans. “You got me.” ** **   
** **

“You don’t have to shave,” Melinda says. Hunter’s scruff wouldn’t be a problem; it wasn’t long or thick. “At least not your face.” ** **   
** **

“That’s reassuring. So,” Hunter begins, squinting one eye open as Melinda continues to wipe his face. “How’d  _ you  _ get roped into this?” ** **   
** **

“I’m getting paid for this,” she says point-blank. Melinda tosses the wipe into the trashcan and moves onto gently patting Hunter’s face dry. “The company needed an artist and Bobbi recommended me.”  ** **   
** **

“How do you know Bobbi?” ** **   
** **

“We’re long-time friends,” Melinda tells him. “How do you know her?” Before Hunter can reply, Melinda picks up a clean brush and dips it in the yellow paint on her pallet before turning back to Hunter. “Try not to move.” ** **   
** **

“She’s my ex-wife,” Hunter says. “Oh, that’s cold.” ** **   
** **

“I know.” ** **   
** **

“You know about the paint or my ex-wife?” ** **   
** **

Melinda rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t take much to connect the dots between Bobbi’s ex Hunter and you.” ** **   
** **

“I don’t know whether I should be offended or not.” Hunter tries not to move his face too much as Melinda paints over his forehead again. “How many times did you two hook up?” ** **   
** **

Her hand stills for only a second. Melinda blinks, more so surprised than offended at his bluntness. She continues to paint him. “You’re very perceptive.” ** **   
** **

“Please,” Hunter scoffs. “I’ve known Bob for five years and spent two of them married to her. I know all of her smiles and the one she kept giving you was the same one she used to give me.” ** **   
** **

“A few times,” Melinda tells him after a brief pause. She focuses on blending the yellows. “It was off and on about a year ago whenever we were both in town.” ** **   
** **

“Did you ever date?” ** **   
** **

She shakes her head. “We both know it wouldn’t work out. No sense in ruining a healthy relationship with dating.” ** **   
** **

“Wish I knew that,” Hunter says, closing his eyes as Melinda passes over them with the brush. “But then again, my relationship with Bobbi wasn’t always healthy.” ** **   
** **

“You two seem on good terms now.” ** **   
** **

“Now yeah, but it was rough during and right after the divorce. We went almost a year without seeing each other.” Hunter clears his throat. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you.” ** **   
** **

“Close your mouth.” It sounds rude so Melinda tacks on a flat, “Please. And don’t talk for five minutes. Can you handle that?” ** **   
** **

Hunter rolls his eyes and shuts his mouth. Melinda paints over his lips, taking more time than usual as she drags the thin brush across the soft skin. Up this close to him, Melinda gets a better look at his lips. They’re fuller than she expected with a deep cupid’s bow that she glides her brush against. Melinda takes her time, leaning forward to steady her hand. She’s directly in Hunter’s space now, invading it almost intimately. Hunter’s gaze on her doesn’t go unnoticed. The look he’s giving her is indecipherable but still manages to spark heat inside Melinda.  ** **   
** **

She hurries to finish and sits back, cleaning her brush. After five minutes she asks, “What do you want to know?” ** **   
** **

Hesitantly, Hunter touches his lips with the tip of one finger to make sure the paint is dry before he begins talking again. “Anything you’re willing to share. How’d you get into art?” ** **   
** **

At his question, Hunter sees Melinda’s eyes light up.  ** **   
** **

“I was around thirteen I think,” Melinda begins, never breaking concentration as she dabs paint into Hunter’s scruff. “There was a festival downtown. I somehow got volunteered to do the face painting at the booth when the artist didn’t show. I’d only drawn before, never painted, but that was the moment I fell in love with it.”  ** **   
** **

“How’d you get into body painting then?” ** **   
** **

She laughs softly. “When I ran out of room painting my face.”  ** **   
** **

“You do this for a living?” he asks, tilting his head at Melinda’s direction. Her hands are cool on his skin, fingers skimming down his neck. Hunter swallows.  ** **   
** **

“I mostly do special effects makeup for shows and movies. This is just a side business.”  ** **   
** **

“What movies have you done?” ** **   
** **

Melinda turns Hunter’s face to the other side, so he won’t notice how she’s trying not to smile. “That’s confidential.” ** **   
** **

“Aw come on,” he whines. “Am I going to have to find every movie with the best special effects makeup and go through the credits looking for your name?” ** **   
** **

“You’re quite the flatterer.”  ** **   
** **

Hunter winks. “All part of my charm.” ** **   
** **

Melinda finishes painting his face, moving down to Hunter’s neck which takes only a few minutes. She cleans her brush and switches out her palette before turning back to him.  ** **   
** **

“Alright. Shirt off.”  ** **   
** **

Hunter’s brows raise, but he obeys, stripping his shirt off. “You move fast.”  ** **   
** **

She snorts. “Just wait until I’m painting over your dick.” ** **   
** **

Melinda’s seen her fair share of topless men, but something about Hunter’s physique brings her up short. He’s muscular but not overly so. Even with the harsh fluorescent lighting in the locker room, he still looks good. Melinda barely holds herself back from putting her hands on his chest. She could pass that off as  _ it’s part of the creative process, _ but Hunter would probably call her out on it. And besides, that would be unprofessional. Melinda subtly clears her throat and picks up a new palette. She starts at his collarbones, trying not to notice Hunter’s hushed gasp when she first drags her brush across him. Melinda lingers there before moving down his chest.  ** **   
** **

“I guess I should ask what exactly you’re painting me with now since you’re moving onto more sensitive areas,” Hunter says as she reaches his nipples. Melinda tries very hard not to think about what they would feel like under her fingers rather than her brush.  ** **   
** **

“It’s non-toxic, non-allergenic water-based face and body paint,” she says. “The safest and only paint you should use on your body.” ** **   
** **

“Will it stain? Not sure I’ll want to be a walking sunrise for the foreseeable future even if it’s exquisite.” ** **   
** **

“It’ll leave a slight stain, but when you shower, it’ll come off.” ** **   
** **

“Good,” he sighs, relieved. “I’ve only been orange for longer than twenty-four hours  _ once  _ in my life and hope never to repeat that again.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda looks up from mixing paint on her palette. “You can’t say that then not tell me how that happened.”  ** **   
** **

Hunter launches into a story about a self-tanning incident gone wrong that involves a botched tan, two ferrets, someone named Fitz, a small kitchen fire, an attempted kidnapping, and almost getting detained by customs at the airport. By the time he’s finished, Melinda’s face hurts from laughing, and she’s nearly finished painting his arms, torso, and back.  ** **   
** **

From where he’s standing, Hunter carefully twists, studying himself in the mirror on the opposite wall. “It looks fantastic.” ** **   
** **

“We’re only half-way done,” Melinda says. She glances to the clock. There’s an hour and a half left. Perfect. Melinda grabs her next palette, squeezing out deep purple, blue, and pink before gesturing Hunter over. “Come here.” When he moves to sit beside her again, she shakes her head. “No, stand in front of me.”  ** **   
** **

The bench is low enough, and Melinda is short enough to be eye level with Hunter’s lower abdomen from where she’s sitting. But the height still isn’t right. Melinda drops to her knees, catching Hunter’s sharp intake of breath as she does. She’s aware of how this looks and all too aware of what’s behind the beige spandex inches from her face. Against her will, Melinda feels her cheeks heat. She quickly turns to grab her brush and paint rag and tries to ignore their proximity as she begins painting.  ** **   
** **

To her surprise, Hunter doesn’t strike up a conversation. Instead, he’s quiet, but he doesn’t take his eyes off her. Melinda can’t tell which is more unnerving. It isn’t uncomfortable. It just makes her wish they weren’t in a room with five other people. Painting complete strangers was never sexual, in fact, it was usually extremely awkward for both parties, but with Hunter, it almost feels like foreplay. Melinda keeps her touch professional, not wanting to make Hunter uncomfortable if she’s misread the situation so far. With the almost burning desire he’s looking at her with, though, she’s pretty sure she hasn’t.  ** **   
** **

Hunter’s breath hitches when her paintbrush touches his inner thigh.  ** **   
** **

“Sorry,” Melinda murmurs. “Cold?” ** **   
** **

He clears his throat. “Not quite that. I’m, uh, sensitive there.”  ** **   
** **

_ Oh _ . She swallows, pushing any dirty thoughts that come into her mind with that new information. Melinda finishes with his thighs and turns her attention back to his crotch. It could be her imagination, but the bulge there seems more pronounced than before. Melinda avoids any eye contact and paints him, covering the beige spandex in paint. She has to press a little harder for the paint to sit on the fabric, and each time, Hunter grows tenser.  ** **   
** **

“Almost done,” Melinda assures him after a few minutes that somehow feel like an eternity.  ** **   
** **

His voice is strained. “Great.” ** **   
** **

Melinda could take her palette knife and cut the tension between them; it’s that palpable. She finishes painting his hips and groin and orders somewhat breathlessly, “Turn around.” ** **   
** **

Hunter turns immediately, shoulders relaxing only slightly. Melinda quickly paints his ass, marveling briefly at how nice it is. She takes her time with the backs of his thighs and calves, not quite ready to look him in the eye yet. It was ridiculous- Melinda has done this countless times with countless men, but none of them had caused her to feel this way. She and Hunter are attracted to each other, that much is obvious, but Melinda does not need any more X-rated thoughts while she’s trying to work. Since she’s not facing Hunter, it’s easier to keep painting. Melinda paints his thighs, calves, and ankles, practically lying on the floor to do so. She moves around to his front to continue the design. By now the sexual charge between them has decreased, but just barely.  ** **   
** **

Melinda sits back, admiring her work, and certainly not looking at his groin. “All done.” ** **   
** **

“Bless,” Hunter groans. “I need to sit down.” But he lingers as Melinda grabs more paint and another paper plate palette. She glances out of the corner of her eye to see him looking at himself in the mirror. “Bloody amazing.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda bites the inside of her cheek so she won’t smile. “Thanks.” She motions Trip over as Hunter reluctantly leaves. “You’re up.” ** **   
** **

Painting Trip is as easy as talking to him. He keeps the conversation light and interesting while letting Melinda concentrate. It takes a lot of effort to not think about Hunter, especially when he’s just across the room but somehow Melinda does. She’s finishing painting Trip just as Bobbi bursts into the locker room, looking more stressed than six hours before.  ** **   
** **

“Is everyone-?!” ** **   
** **

“They’re all ready,” Melinda assures her.  ** **   
** **

“Oh, thank god,” she breathes. “You’re amazing, Mel. Everyone looks fantastic. Okay. You guys need to line up and sit backstage. It starts in ten minutes.” ** **   
** **

Bobbi’s the first one to leave with Mack trailing behind her. Everyone else trickles out slowly, but Hunter lingers. He leans against one of the sinks, watching Melinda rinse out her brushes.  ** **   
** **

“Are you going to be here after the show?” ** **   
** **

Melinda grabs another brush, carefully angling it away so she won’t get a faceful of water. “Bobbi wants me to stay after to greet the buyers so yes.” ** **   
** **

“Will I get a chance to see you after?” he asks.  ** **   
** **

“I’ll have to come back here to get my stuff.” ** **   
** **

“Perfect.” ** **   
** **

“Why?” she asks, glancing at him before turning back to the sink. “You have something planned?” ** **   
** **

“Well,” Hunter says. There’s a clear offer behind the glint in his eyes. “I’ll need someone to help get all this paint off me.” ** **   
** **

“I’ll think about it.” It’s a tempting offer, but business comes first.  ** **   
** **

“Yes, ma’am. See you out there.”  ** **   
** **

“Don’t mess up my paint, Hunter.” ** **   
** **

He only offers a cheeky smile in reply before leaving. Melinda finishes cleaning in record time and changes into an outfit that isn’t covered in paint before exiting the locker room to join the event. Bobbi catches her in the hallway. ** **   
** **

“Hey!” She’s a bit breathless but seems more nervous than stressed now, if a little excited as well. “The paintings are outstanding! Thank you so much.” ** **   
** **

“Thank you,” Melinda says, smiling shyly from the compliment. “I look forward to my check.” ** **   
** **

Bobbi laughs. “With the way those paintings look, it’ll be larger than expected. Oh.” She pulls her purse across her torso to reach in and take out two carefully wrapped cups of pasta and chicken and a handful of napkin covered deserts. “I snuck you a few things from catering, figured you’d be hungry by now.”  ** **   
** **

“I love you.” Melinda takes them as well as the fork Bobbi hands her. She eagerly eats, realizing that she’s in fact almost starving. The few snacks she had in between painting are long gone. ** **   
** **

“So.” Bobbi leans against the wall, biting into one of the mini cheesecakes and ignoring Melinda’s huff. “What’s going on between you and Hunter?” ** **   
** **

Melinda chokes on her food. She coughs through it, glaring at Bobbi as the woman laughs and hands her a bottle of water. When Melinda has drained about half of the water, she wipes her mouth before croaking, “Just for that, I’m not telling you.” ** **   
** **

“Aw, come on!” Bobbi whines. “I saw the way he was looking at you.” ** **   
** **

“Funny,” Melinda says. “He said the same thing to me about you.” ** **   
** **

Bobbi’s cheeks turn pink. She opens her mouth but then shut it, still blushing. It isn’t every day Bobbi doesn’t have anything to say so Melinda savors it and steals the half-eaten cheesecake from her fingers.  ** **   
** **

“Morse!” There’s a yell from backstage. “You’ve got three minutes!” ** **   
** **

Bobbi goes from embarrassed to petrified in the span of one second. She pushes herself off the wall, smoothing down the front of her dress even though Melinda assures her she looks fine.  ** **   
** **

“Okay,” Bobbi breathes but pauses before leaving. “See you after?” ** **   
** **

Melinda nods. “I’ll be waiting at my table.”  ** **   
** **

“Great. Good luck.” ** **   
** **

“You too,” Melinda says. “You’ll be great.” ** **   
** **

Bobbi rushes off. Melinda finishes eating and makes a quick trip to the bathroom before joining everyone else backstage. She finds Hunter easily enough. Even in the dimly lit space, his paint is visible. Melinda watches as he laughs at something Trip says, head thrown back and eyes crinkling. She should be worried about the paint creasing but can’t bring her focus away from the dimple on his cheek. She hadn’t noticed it before. Hunter finishes laughing and turns, looking directly at Melinda. At least the low light hides how her face flushes from being caught. Melinda holds his gaze until Hunter winks and someone rushes past.  ** **   
** **

The CEO of the company that Bobbi works for introduces herself and talks before introducing Bobbi who organized the entire event. If Melinda didn’t know her so well, she wouldn’t think Bobbi was nervous at all. Then, she brings Melinda on stage who forces herself to smile and say a few things before being ushered off stage so the auction can begin. Her paintings are last, paraded out one by one. ** **   
** **

Mack is first, painted in silver, gray, and black, so his entire body looks like different pieces of machinery. For Jemma, Melinda chose a deep blue-black paint, covering her in it with a burning bright galaxy at the center of her stomach and back with stars and planets on the rest of her body. The metallic paint she used for the stars catches against the bright stage lights. The stage dims when Lincoln walks out, per Melinda’s instruction. He’s painted to look like a skeleton, almost entirely black except for light blue-white bones. Daisy is next, painted in brightly pigmented blues, reds, yellows, and pinks that form hundreds of flowers. Trip is a colorful mosaic contrasted by lines of his skin between the different shapes and plates. Hunter’s sunset ends the show and drives all the bids up to an amount that Melinda has only seen on lottery signs.  ** **   
** **

She sneaks out of the ballroom a few minutes into the closing speech to make her way to her table in the main hallway, waiting as guests start to leave. Many of them stop to talk with her, admiring her work and asking about it. It feels like it takes hours for everyone to leave. By the time they do, it’s dark out, and Bobbi looks as exhausted as Melinda. She leans against the table with a sigh, now a few inches shorter with flats yet still towering over Melinda. “That was the best turnout we’ve ever had.”  ** **   
** **

“It was great,” Melinda agrees as she continues to pack, taking the stack of business cards Bobbi hands her.  ** **   
** **

“Some of my coworkers and I are going out to dinner,” Bobbi says. “You’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.” ** **   
** **

“Thank you,” Melinda politely declines. “But I have plans.” ** **   
** **

“Alright, well.” Bobbi’s tone turns suggestive. “You have fun.” ** **   
** **

She rolls her eyes. “Get out of here.” ** **   
** **

Bobbi laughs, ducking to press a kiss to Melinda’s cheek and a key in her hand. “Thank you again, Mel.” ** **   
** **

Melinda squeezes her hand. “Anytime.” ** **   
** **

After Bobbi leaves, Melinda packs up her table. The center is desolate aside from a few cleaning personnel but with the key Bobbi gave her, Melinda will have a way out if she decides to stay. She palms the warm metal, glancing between the exit and the door leading backstage. Melinda makes her decision and grabs the handle of her roller bag.  ** **   
** **

The hallways are empty as well as many of the other rooms Melinda passes by on her way to the dressing room. For a moment, she doesn’t think Hunter will be there but then hears soft, exasperated cursing coming from within. When she peers in, Melinda sees Hunter sitting on one of the benches, still naked aside from the skimpy spandex underwear and body paint. He’s rubbing at his painted skin with what looks like a wet wipe. It isn’t cleaning much of it off. His frustration grows with each pass of the wipe over the paint.  ** **   
** **

“You’re not going to get it off with just that.” ** **   
** **

Hunter glances up at Melinda for a brief second before back down at his arm. “But baby wipes work for everything.” ** **   
** **

She rolls her eyes. “Soap and water work the best.”  ** **   
** **

“I’ll shower later,” he says. “Anyone else out there?” ** **   
** **

“No, we’re the only ones here.”  ** **   
** **

“Good.” Hunter scrubs at his neck a bit more before joking, “If anyone saw me half-painted they might demand their money back.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda pushes herself off the wall and walks further into the dressing room. When she nears the bench, Hunter removes his bag from it. Melinda sits down beside him. She holds her hand out for the baby wipe. “Let me.” ** **   
** **

Wordlessly, Hunter hands her the paint streaked wipe. Melinda folds it, trying to find a part that is still white. Then, she reaches up, taking Hunter’s chin in hand. Like before, his breathing changes, and he swallows tightly. There’s an intensity in Hunter’s eyes that makes Melinda clench her thighs together. Melinda clears her throat and begins to rub at his face gently.  ** **   
** **

A few seconds pass before Hunter speaks. “To be honest, I didn’t think you would come back.” ** **   
** **

She frowns. “Why?” ** **   
** **

“You seem like a busy person.” Hunter shrugs, eyes momentarily avoiding Melinda’s. “Aside from that, we just met.” ** **   
** **

“You’re not the first person I’ve had sex with on a first meeting.” ** **   
** **

His brows rise. “Bold of you to assume we’re going to have sex.” ** **   
** **

She frowns. “Why else would you ask if I was going to come back after the show?” ** **   
** **

“Maybe I want to get to know you as a person,” Hunter says. “You’re brilliant, by the way. Your work is incredible." ** **   
** **

“Thank you.”  ** **   
** **

The paint doesn’t disappear easily but clears enough so that his skin begins to peek through. Now Hunter’s face is mostly devoid of paint except the bright orange on his lips.  ** **   
** **

“You know-” ** **   
** **

“Shh.” Melinda takes his chin between her fingers. Obediently, Hunter stops talking. “Don’t open your mouth.” ** **   
** **

Carefully Melinda rubs at Hunter’s lips. She can’t help but notice how pretty they are; plump, pink, and looking extremely kissable. Melinda doesn’t even notice her hand stilling until Hunter softly clears his throat. She tears her gaze from his now clean mouth and feels her breath catch as he leans forward until the tips of their noses touch. Hunter hesitates, wordlessly asking permission. Melinda nods, curling a hand around the back of his neck as he touches his lips to hers. ** **   
** **

Melinda pulls back, wrinkling her nose. “You taste gross.” Baby wipes aren’t meant for the lips after all.  ** **   
** **

“Well that’s something you never want to hear after kissing someone,” Hunter says. He licks his thumb and rubs it over his lips a few times. “That should do it.” ** **   
** **

Instead of answering, Melinda cups his face in her palms and brings his lips back to hers. There’s no more awful baby wipe residue- instead, Melinda can only taste him. She opens her mouth eagerly under Hunter’s, melting against him. It only takes another kiss or two for everything to take a heady turn. Melinda mewls softly into his mouth as Hunter runs a hand up her thigh the same second he nips at her bottom lip.  ** **   
** **

“You know,” Hunter begins when they pull away. His licks his red and swollen lips while Melinda stares, mesmerized. “I think it’s unfair you’ve seen me half naked twice now meanwhile you’re still clothed.” ** **   
** **

Standing, Melinda makes sure she keeps eye contact with Hunter as she strips her shirt off. It as well as her pants land in a crumpled heap on the bench where she was sitting. When she’s down to just her bra and underwear, Melinda kicks her shoes off before lifting one leg over Hunter’s and sitting on his lap.  ** **   
** **

“That better?” ** **   
** **

Throat suddenly dry at seeing her newly revealed skin, Hunter can only manage to nod. His eyes drift from her face to her chest and then lower.  ** **   
** **

“It was unfair, hmm?” Melinda asks as she runs her hands up Hunter’s chest and up to his shoulders. Just as before, his muscles are solid under her fingertips. “You know what else was unfair? Getting to paint you but not touch you like this.” ** **   
** **

“You’re more than welcome to touch me now.” ** **   
** **

Melinda takes Hunter up on his offer and greedily slides her hands over his taut abdomen. His abs flex in her wake. As before, Melinda has the almost overwhelming desire to grab her sketchbook and draw him, but the harsh lighting in the room wouldn’t do him justice. And at the moment she has things on her mind other than drawing. Her fingers trail over his skin, rising and falling against defined muscles. When her fingers pass over his belly button, Hunter’s stomach flexes, and he lets out a breathy laugh. Melinda does it again, nails delicately scraping against his skin with flecks of paint trailing in her wake.  ** **   
** **

“Enjoying yourself?” ** **   
** **

“I am.” She shifts on his lap to feel his hands, which were now on her waist, slide up. “Are you?” ** **   
** **

“Of course I am,” he says. “How could I not enjoy myself with a beautiful woman on my lap like this?”  ** **   
** **

“Keep up the flattery.” Melinda slides her hands up to Hunter’s chest and to his neck. She presses a kiss to his lips, enjoying how he chases her mouth when she pulls back.  ** **   
** **

“Yes, ma’am.” Hunter’s fingertips hesitantly skim the edges of Melinda’s bra. “Can I take this off?”  ** **   
** **

Melinda nods, taking one hand from Hunter’s shoulders to reach behind her and help him unclip her bra. When it comes undone, and the straps slide off her shoulders, Hunter catches the garment. Melinda is vaguely aware of her bra being tossed aside, but then Hunter’s lips are softly trailing up her breastbone. He looks up at her, maintaining eye contact as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Melinda whines at the feeling of Hunter’s hot mouth and slides her hands up for her fingers to tug at the hair at the nape of his neck. She bucks in his lap as he moves to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. But this time, Hunter brings a hand from her waist to pinch her unattended nipple, still shiny with his spit. Melinda keens and tugs harder, pulling him back up to her.  ** **   
** **

The cold air of the dressing room against her wet skin makes Melinda shiver, moaning into Hunter’s mouth as he kisses her. There’s a similar feeling between her legs as air ghosts over the wet patch on the crotch of her underwear. Melinda shifts on Hunter’s lap, not willing to wait any longer. She moves a hand between them and to his briefs, palming his erection over the painted spandex. Even through the fabric, Hunter’s hot and heavy under her palm.  ** **   
** **

He whimpers at the contact, hips pressing himself further against her touch. “Fuck, Melinda.” ** **   
** **

When Melinda pulls her hand back, flecks and patches of peeled paint decorate her palm, reaching up to her fingertips and even under her nails. An annoyed grunt forms in the back of her throat as she tries to wipe the paint off. “I always hate this part.” ** **   
** **

“At least you didn’t paint my dick,” Hunter says. “It would look nice painted as a torpedo, though.” ** **   
** **

“Maybe I should paint a ruler on it.” ** **   
** **

Hunter makes an affronted huff, shifting to help Melinda peel the spandex down. “It’s a nice size thank you very much.”  ** **   
** **

“It is.” He’s a nice size indeed, filling her hand in a way that sends a bolt of lust through her. Melinda’s mouth waters at the thought of having him inside. She strokes him, enjoying how Hunter’s hips jump under her and how he bites his lip. “You got any condoms? And no, I won’t paint one on.” ** **   
** **

He laughs. “Yeah, let me grab my bag.” ** **   
** **

While Hunter reaches over and grabs his bag from behind the bench, Melinda busies herself with pressing kisses to his jaw and neck. She knows the instant she finds a sweet spot because Hunter nearly drops his bag. He grunts, trying to focus on getting a condom as Melinda turns her attention on sucking a bruise below his ear. Hunter fumbles more than a few times but finally grasps the foil packet just as Melinda scrapes her teeth against his jawline.  ** **   
** **

“Damn you, woman.” He turns back to her, immediately meeting her lips in a rough kiss that has Melinda’s toes curling against the tile floor. She sinks into him, not bothering to hold back a moan as Hunter nips at her lower lip. They both pull back, stealing kisses as their hands busy with tugging Melinda’s underwear down and rolling the condom on Hunter’s cock.  ** **   
** **

Before Melinda can wrap her hand around his cock again, Hunter pushes a finger into her. Her breath hitches, turning into a low moan as he easily slides a second finger in.  ** **   
** **

“God, you’re so wet.” ** **   
** **

“That’s from watching you on stage,” Melinda says, gasping as he circles his thumb against her clit. His fingers pump in and out of her, creating lewd sounds in the empty room but doing nothing to satiate the ache that has been building between Melinda’s legs since Hunter took his shirt off earlier.  ** **   
** **

“Yeah?” Hunter asks. “Seeing me strutting around wearing next to nothing but your art got you all hot and bothered?” ** **   
** **

She whines. “Yes.” ** **   
** **

“It got me too,” he says. “You know how hard it is to hide a boner in those pants? I was fighting against one the entire time you were painting me, and even when I was on stage.” ** **   
** **

Melinda shudders half at his words and half at how Hunter’s fingertips eagerly press against a ridged patch of skin inside her. She pushes at his wrist. “Enough. Get in me.” ** **   
** **

Hunter removes his fingers but not without rubbing her clit again to have Melinda’s hips jump. He grins deviously. “Yes, ma’am.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda raises up on Hunter’s lap far enough to help him position his cock at her entrance. She sinks onto him slowly, reveling in the thickness of his cock and the slight burn taking him brings. It’s almost too much from her dry spell and brief prep, but at the same time, it’s the perfect stretch. He fills her, manages to make her feel taken when they’ve hardly begun. When she’s fully seated, Melinda gasps. She leans forward a bit, trying to adjust. Hunter’s lips find her neck, sucking bruises that have her building up to rock against him.  ** **   
** **

“ _ Oh _ ,” Melinda whimpers, mind momentarily whiting out with pleasure. ** **   
** **

“Yeah.” Hunter kisses the hollow of her throat, hands sliding to her cup her ass, guiding her to lift up as she begins to move over him. “God, you’re tight.” ** **   
** **

“It’s been a while,” Melinda admits.  ** **   
** **

“Those Hollywood actors not treating you right?” ** **   
** **

She scoffs. “More like the fifteen-hour workdays.” Melinda arches her hips, trembling at the sensation of his cock, thick and heavy pressing up against her. “You gonna show me what you can do?” ** **   
** **

“Oh,” he says. “I am.”  ** **   
** **

Melinda wraps her arms around Hunter’s shoulders when he begins to move. She braces her knees on the bench, and her toes on the tile floor as Hunter hammers up into her, pushing moans and whimpers out of her with each hard thrust. His fingers press into her thighs, just on the side of painful that makes her clench around him. Melinda’s head spins.  ** **   
** **

“Holy shit,” she breathes. “Hunter.”  ** **   
** **

“You might as well call me Lance, now,” he says, pulling Melinda closer. As he does, the angle changes and Melinda keens. “That it, love?” ** **   
** **

Melinda manages a nod as she pushes herself down on him further. Hunter starts up a rhythm, thrusting up into her. After being wound up since painting him, her orgasm is only a breath away. When Hunter shifts a hand to press his thumb against her clit, Melinda comes. Hard. She tightens around him, hips bucking and an uncharacteristic wail slipping from her lips as Hunter keeps fucking her, drawing her orgasm out. Hunter chases his own orgasm, groaning as he thrusts. Melinda can tell he’s close. She clenches around him, pulling herself away from his chest to ride down and give him that extra push. He comes with a moan, hips rutting against Melinda’s as his cock pulses. She collapses against him with a deep, content sigh, lifting up slightly so he can pull out.  ** **   
** **

When they’ve caught their breath and sat for a minute or two, Melinda moves off him. Hunter steadies her as she stands, hands securely on her waist. Her legs wobble only slightly, feeling like jelly. Melinda collapses onto the bench, albeit gingerly. She’ll be sore in the best way the next day. She watches Hunter dispose of the condom, dropping it in the trash. Now that her mind is somewhat cleared from her orgasms, Melinda asks, “Do you just carry condoms around with you?” ** **   
** **

“Not usually,” he says. “I only have some with me now because yesterday I was teaching the kids about how to use them and just forgot to take the box out.”  ** **   
** **

“You teach?” ** **   
** **

“Yeah, high school sex ed and gym. The health teacher is on maternity leave, so I got promoted, or demoted. Depends on how you look at it.”  ** **   
** **

“Teaching a classroom of hormonal teenagers about sex,” Melinda says. “Sounds like fun.” ** **   
** **

Hunter groans. “It’s terrible, but I’ll have you know I’m am expert on putting condoms on bananas now.” ** **   
** **

“A fine skill.” ** **   
** **

“I’m starting to itch,” Hunter says, making a face as he shifts on the bench. “And it’s not a sexy itch.” ** **   
** **

Melinda moves to stand on shaky feet. She was sitting way too long for most of the day, and of course, the intense sex and orgasms didn’t help. She grabs a pair of flip flops from her bag, feeling even more naked with them on versus with her feet bare. But strangely, Melinda doesn’t feel awkward about it with Hunter’s presence. Of course, he’s naked as well but unlike her, still mostly covered in paint. She tilts her head toward the opposite side of the locker room.  ** **   
** **

“Let’s go shower.”  ** **   
** **

He frowns. “You’re coming with me?” ** **   
** **

Melinda glances down to her thighs, which now have streaks of color smeared on the inner parts and her crotch. Flecks of paint dot her entire body, stemming from the streaks. She’s positive some paint even ended up in her hair. It would be the easiest way to get clean, but at the confusion and hint of apprehension in Hunter’s tone, that might not be happening. Melinda frowns, a little embarrassed at how she overstepped. “Do you want me to?” ** **   
** **

“Yeah.” He blinks before shaking his head and standing, gathering a towel from his bag. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t have a problem with showering together. You just caught me off guard a bit.” ** **   
** **

He’s telling the truth. Melinda relaxes. “That doesn’t happen often?” ** **   
** **

“Only by a beautiful woman.” ** **   
** **

“You already got in my pants,” she says. “You can quit the lines now.” ** **   
** **

Hunter makes an affronted sound. “I’m trying to compliment you here.” ** **   
** **

Melinda softens. “Compliment received.”  ** **   
** **

“How about we get dinner after we shower?” Hunter blurts, quickly following it up with stammering. “If- if you want to! I totally get if you want this to be just a one-time thing or-” ** **   
** **

“Lance.” The use of his first name brings Hunter up short. “Dinner sounds good.” ** **   
** **

Melinda is utterly unprepared for the bright smile that Hunter gives her and for the jump her heart gives at the sight of his dimples again. He holds out a hand to her, and she takes it. “Let’s go shower then.”  **   
**

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
